2.47

Jack POV

“I told you not to ask,” my beast hisses at me, worried about the fragile peace I already have between myself and this pack. He did tell me to drop it, but I had to get it out. I had to try one last time, or I would regret it.

At least I thought I would. I feel a different kind of regret now, though I don't know how to interpret it. I don't think I'm ready to. What I'm ready for is a drink. I need to wet my lips desperately now.

I reassured Ela that I was still more than willing to take on the task of going to defeat her uncle. I want him dead too much to let my wounded ego deter that. It’s personal for both Ela and myself, just like it is for most of my crew. All our lives would be different if not for that bastard Wayne. I would be every bit an alpha on land as I am at sea if it weren’t for him, with my mate by my side, not having to face the constant torture of guilt and shame, and the ache of loss.

Wandering back towards the beach, alone, since Ela left me in that barra